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Published: November 18th 2009
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A street in town
A medley of motorbikes, people and food vendors. Day 17: Sichon to Nakhon Si Thamarat
We woke up late and ate a delicious pomello with sugar, in bed, while listening to the ocean. We made it down the boardwalk to the restaurant for breakfast and I broke my general rule of not ordering Western food in Asia as it is always a poor imitation. But I’ve been away from the US for so long now, sometimes I just need it. The French toast was made from white bread, with the crusts cut off, and came without butter or maple syrup. How could I even call it French toast? It shared one property with French toast, by virtue of being bread.
Hlon, a friendly and flamboyant teenager who worked at the restaurant, sat with us at breakfast and told us a story about when he worked in Ko Samui, a nearby island very popular with tourists. He said there were falang everywhere, all the time. But here, in Sichon, there were no falang. To show us what it was like in Ko Samui, he pointed all around the restaurant, yelling, “Falang, falang, falang, falang!” It was pretty funny; can you imagine someone in the US telling you a
story about being surrounded by foreign people, and yelling, “Foreigner! Foreigner! Foreigner!” to make their point?
J’s knee was still extremely painful so we decided ahead of time that today we would hitch-hike. That was fine with me, as my rear-end was pretty much too sore to even sit on from biking. (Looking back, I can see some people might read this and say, “Why didn’t you just stay at this seaside hotel bungalow and rest? Well, to be honest, I don’t think we even considered that at the time. We were journeying forward, adventuring. No time to stay in one place if it wasn’t fully enchanting or extremely necessary. Although some people might deem a knee injury fairly-extremely necessary.)
As we set off biking again, we passed through town, where we saw Sean, the pharmacist. He pointed us in the right direction, and it was about three minutes after that when we realized that hitchhiking would not be so easy. This was because nobody here knows the American thumbs-up signal. As we biked along, our thumbs-up outstretched towards the road, people driving by would wave and yell hello to us, as they normally did. We tried other
fingers, but these fingers also did not garner the response we were seeking.
We’d biked about twelve miles, and were resting our thumbs and other fingers, when a truck stopped and said, “Nakhon? Hop in.” And we did. Sitting comfortably in the bed of the pickup, our bikes at our sides, this guy drove us 53 km, about 32 miles, in forty-five minutes. Did I mention this truck-bed had a cage around it? Probably to keep livestock in during transport. Fortunately, it was just us inside the cage during this ride.
When the driver stopped to let us out in Nakhon, J gave him a hemp necklace, to thank him. For the first time, we could tell that the recipient loved his gift. The driver pulled out a really neat, tiny Buddha statue from a temple in nearby Pattani and gave it to J. It was evident this recipient, J, also really loved his gift.
When our new friend pulled away, we walked across the street for lunch. For the first time, I saw Thai women with headscarfs, evidence of their Muslim faith. As most Thais are Buddhist, I was looking forward to speaking to some Thai
Yum Salad Lady, Working Frenetically
Very, very popular stand. We waited 20 minutes! Longest wait for street food ever! Always a delicious seafood medley though. Very unique dish. Muslims and observing the interaction of faiths. At this little restaurant, served by beautiful women in headscarves, we ate delicious fried tofu, nutty pot-stickers with sweet chili sauce, chicken with teriyaki sauce on jasmine rice and pad thai, loaded with tiny dried red shrimps. For dessert, fried battered bananas.
What? Sitting in the back of a truck for forty-five minutes can really make you hungry!
After lunch, we biked around this big, strange town, checking out different hotel options, with extreme variation in price and quality. We could stay in luxury, for $200, or we could stay in a rundown, dirty whore-house for $10 a night. Hmm… Searching for a hotel only when you reach a town is a good way to have a first look around though. We just cruised around, gliding easily on our bikes, interacting with people.
Regular travelers, meaning those not biking, have to get to a place, find a hotel, and then get out on the street to interact with the town and the people. Not bikers. We are interacting all day, everyday. And all night too, if we like. Biking is definitely the premier way to travel.
After a nice
tour of the town, we settled on the Nakorn Garden Inn, a very natural, rustic, inspired hotel. The lobby resembles a big barn, very open, but not fancy, with a high roof. The rooms are centered around a big courtyard, like the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, in Boston. Leafy trees of many varieties dot the courtyard, sharing space with potted flowers and surprisingly, a sand ground. Tile or grass would have completed the look much better. The outside of the rooms are a handsome brick, intermixed with simple, dark wood. There are screens on the doors and inside, the spacious and comfortable rooms boast shockingly well-planned neutral wall colors. There are no chairs upon the outdoor walkway overlooking the central garden courtyard though. We pulled chairs outside and enjoyed the peaceful reserve.
Despite J’s injury, sitting in the room was not really an option. He, and I, were too eager to get out and explore the town some more. This was a busy town, with loads of people walking the streets, tons of street vendors, all kinds of stores too. We bought an English newspaper, the Bangkok Post, the first one we’d seen in days. It’s funny how life
The Marry Me Studio
Right next to the I Love You Studio, which didn't show up. Both selling wedding gowns. keeps happening outside your little world, even if you aren’t there to track it or read about it. After walking around for a few hours, we purchased an assortment of foods from street vendors to bring back to our hotel room for a picnic.
Back in our room, we filled a wicker basket with our picnic, carried it over to the bed, and unpacked it. What a picnic it was! Mussel pancakes, shrimp, pork and squid yum salad, three types of grilled sausage and cucumber salad. And for dessert, baked pumpkin with creamy, custardy filling and sweet, green, jello cake with merengue topping. Plus, spiky red fruit. And Thai beer. We relished our picnic in our giant, comfy bed. But we never did get to read that English paper; somehow we lost it on the way home, our hands loaded with goodies.
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